


Rule Number One

by dragonwings948



Series: Doctor Who Series 10 [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blindness, Episode: s10e05 Oxygen, Feels, Friendship, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s10e05 Oxygen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 15:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwings948/pseuds/dragonwings948
Summary: As the Doctor tries to hide his blindness from Bill, she tries to thank him for saving her at Chasm Forge. But, as usual, he doesn't want her gratitude or her pity. He's not the hero she thinks he is. And he's hurting more than he'll ever let her know.





	Rule Number One

            “Hey.”

            The Doctor hadn’t been keeping track of time or the noise of his surroundings, so Bill’s voice caught him off guard. He jumped and shook himself from his dark thoughts…figuratively _and_ literally dark thoughts.

            “You okay?” Her voice got closer and the Doctor heard her footsteps pause in front of his desk. He looked up where he knew her face would be.

            “I’m always okay. Just…thinking.”

            “Thinking about what?” A rustling of fabric followed and the Doctor assumed that Bill had taken her usual seat.

            “Lots of things. Everything.” He could picture her ensuing smile.

            “You know what I’ve been thinking about? Are there any side effects to being out in space? Or from being momentarily turned into a zombie thing?”

            For a moment the Doctor thought of the irony of her question when paired with his blindness. But the next more overwhelming thought was: _is Bill okay?_

The Doctor sat up straighter and folded his arms on his desk, leaning forward. He had sat across from her like this so many times that he knew exactly what her face would look like, exactly what position she would be in. “Why?”

            He heard fabric shifting subtly and imagined Bill shrugging. “I don’t know, just wanted to make sure I’m not going to suddenly turn into a zombie again or anything.” She chuckled, but there was a nervous edge to her laughter. She was genuinely concerned, reaching out for consolation.

            “Bill,” he said firmly, though with as much gentleness as he could manage, “you’re fine.”

            “You’re sure?” He could see her doubtful look so clearly in his mind, the way she would raise her eyebrows and narrow her eyes just the slightest bit.

            The Doctor nodded once. “Absolutely sure.”

            A pause followed. The Doctor cursed his stupid, weak eyes for not being able to see her expression and discern what she was thinking.

            “Look, Doctor, I know you don’t want to hear it, but…”

            By the contriteness of her tone, the Doctor already knew where this was going. “No, Bill, you really don’t have to—”

            “I know I don’t. But I want to.” Bill sighed. “Doctor, what you did for me on the space station…no one…” She paused and the Doctor could feel a faint vibration in the wood of the desk. Was it from her hand?

            “No one’s ever risked their life for me before.”

            The Doctor looked down, as if it would stop the image in his mind of Bill trying to hold it together. He didn’t need this. He didn’t _deserve_ this. Didn’t she understand that she was worth it, that he would do it all over again? He wasn’t her hero. He was just doing the right thing. He didn’t deserve her tears, her pity, her gratitude.

            He shook his head. “It wasn’t—”

            “Yeah, it was _kind of_ a big deal,” she said, not exactly reading his mind, but close enough. There was an edge in her voice now which told that she was getting irritated at his apathy. “You could have died. Even when you were blind…I was wondering how I could live with myself and see you every day knowing that it was because of me.”

            The Doctor flinched, and he wondered if she noticed. “It wasn’t your fault, Bill,” he said quickly to cover it up, though he truly meant what he said. “I made the choice to save you, and it was a good choice.”

            “Okay, fine. But I still just need to say…” He felt her hand on his and shifted his hand a bit in surprise, as if to shake her off. As a habit, he snapped his head up to look at her. Even with his sight it would have been a surprising gesture; Bill really wasn’t the touching sort, apart from the occasional hug or nudge in the arm.

            “Thank you, Doctor.”

            He looked down again and slipped his hand into his lap. “I told you I’d keep you safe,” he muttered.

* * *

 

            As soon as Bill left, the Doctor entered the TARDIS and grabbed his sonic sunglasses. He was sure there had to be some way to wire himself telepathically into the sunglasses so that he’d at least be able to see data about his surroundings, maybe even rough outlines. The work would be tough going without sight; it might even take him days, but he had to do it.

            _She can’t know,_ he thought to himself as he tinkered with his sunglasses, wondering why darkness had to be so _dark._

_She can’t ever know._


End file.
